Me: “Can you please tell me the difference between [menu item #1] and [menu item #2]?”

Cashier: “The ingredients.”

Full stop.

Me: “…”

I volunteered with a wolfdog hybrid rescue farm. We had a pack of wolfdogs that were permanent residents at the farm, as having other wolfdogs coming in and out of the pack would have been traumatic for them. About half the farm, however, was set aside for the adoptable animals. They were held in large pens by themselves. On the weekends, it was one of my jobs to clean out the individual pens. There was plenty of poop from the week. During the winter, I would jokingly refer to what I picked up as “poopsicles.”

One very cold winter day, it was not much more than 20 degrees F (about -7 degrees C). I entered one of the pens that held a wolfdog. I greeted her, gave her a scratch between the ears, and went about picking up the poopsicles with tongs and placing them in the bucket I carried. There was a decent amount of snow that had accumulated on the ground, so it was easy to find my targets.

As my last task, I had to break the ice in the large water bowl so the wolfdog would have access to her water. I stepped to the bowl and started smashing through the layer of ice with the heel of my boot. All of a sudden, I heard a frightening sound: a menacing growl. I had been a volunteer there for years and never heard any of the wolfdogs make a noise like that. I slowly turned my head and saw the wolfdog standing not ten feet from me. She had fluffed up her fur to appear bigger and was baring her teeth at me. I was terrified. I started backing slowly toward the door, keeping the wolfdog in my field of vision but not making eye contact. I reached the door, felt behind me, and unlatched the handle. I made my exit. It was only after I was safely outside that I realized I was not breathing. I sat on the ground for a moment and regained my composure.

It was only after I got the owner of the rescue to come over that we were able to piece together the reason for the unusual behavior. She had been fed raw deer meat the previous day which she had not finished. She stashed what remained in the corner of her pen, behind her water bowl, under some snow. I simply was not aware of its existence and broke a cardinal rule: never get between a wolfdog and his or her food. I was fortunate to have received a warning from her before she did something physical. All in all, it was by far the most frightening experience I had as a volunteer there, and perhaps one of the most frightening of my entire life.

I place an order at a burger place and I use a coupon. The guy at the register enters it and he finishes off.

Cashier: “All right, your total is $7.49.”

Me: *Pauses* “No, it should be six bucks, plus tax.”

Cashier: “Yes, but—”

Me: “Wait, did I screw up the coupon? Or did it not go in right?”

Cashier: “No, it went in b—”

Me: “Then why is it a dollar more?!”

Cashier: “Because you upgraded to the large combo, sir. It’s six dollars for the small.”

I stare into space, gears slowly grinding to life in my brain.

Me: “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not usually this stupid. Your soda machines are free refills, right? I think I need a lot of sugar and caffeine right now. I’m really sorry.”

Thankfully, the cashier got a bit of a laugh out of that and there were no hard feelings. I still apologized again, and after sitting down to eat and, yes, getting the sugariest and most caffeinated thing they had, was thinking much more clearly.

I work at a department of a college that offers programs and events for the community, so a lot of people who attend our events have never been on the campus before. I have this phone conversation several times a month.

Customer: “I’m going to something at [building] tomorrow. What is your address?”

Me: “We’re located at [address], but that address is for the entire college campus. A GPS will bring you to the opposite end of the campus from [building], so you’ll have to…”

I give detailed directions.

Customer: “So, I just have to put [address] into my GPS and it will take me there?”

Me: *Head-desk*

Related:
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 6
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 5
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 4
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 3
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 2

My husband and I both worked retail jobs when we were younger, so we have a lot of sympathy and understanding when it’s obvious folks are just overwhelmed, new hires, or anything like that.

Well, at least I thought we both did.

The store we’re currently in has a total of four registers. At the moment, two are being manned and there’s a long line waiting. One register is empty, and one is being obviously used for training, as there’s a big sign on the belt that says, “TRAINING,” with a product rack blocking the aisle, there’s a manager standing over the person at the register, and that person is looking over a book.

Husband: “Man, this is a long line.”

Me: “Yeah, but it’s our fault for coming during rush hour.”

Husband: “They could really open up another register.”

Me: “It’d be nice, but we’re almost up to the front, anyway; there are only like two people ahead of us.”

My husband turns around, stares at the manager and trainee, and then reaches up and SNAPS HIS FINGERS and calls for help. I glare at him and raise my voice.

Me: “Did you seriously just snap your f****** fingers at them?!”

Husband: “They’re just standing there!”

Me: “She is getting trained! That register is closed! You know better than this. Get out and go wait in the car!”

Husband: “But—”

Me: “No buts. You never act like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with you right now but I’m not dealing with it. Go! I’ll see you in a few minutes!”

He finally did trudge off. It left everyone else kind of staring at me, and I apologized for the scene. And no, I didn’t suddenly get handed a ton of coupons or the double-employee-discount or anything like that, but the manager did thank me for standing up for them.

I got outside and my husband was indeed sitting in the car but looking unwell. We figured out that his blood sugar was going wonky, and apparently, the first symptom for him is getting extra snappy… no pun intended. And yes, since then, I have more than once pulled the “you’re not you when you’re hungry” line when he gets that way!